


Mutual Respect

by westernsunset



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen, so this fic answers that!, why is wyldon friends with the shangs they're literally total opposites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernsunset/pseuds/westernsunset
Summary: "I think as the three of you spend more time together, a mutual respect will develop.”--How did a stiff and conservative noble end up becoming friends with a female warrior and a foreigner, both of whom were commoners? And why did the Shang warriors stick around and travel with Wyldon?





	1. A Choice

Lord Wyldon was a political choice for training master. After the decree that girls could pursue knighthood, many fiefs made their displeasure known. Forcefully. To ease the transition, King Jonathan asked Lord Wyldon to serve, mollifying some of the more powerful nobles. And while progressive balked at such a conservative man training the pages, Wyldon did prove himself to be an effective training master.

Wyldon was harsh, but he got results. He was such a strict training master, more pages had dropped out than ever before. But those that stayed became some of the finest knights the kingdom had ever seen. This partly had to do with who was teaching them, something Wyldon had final say over.

It was surprising that Wyldon introduced Shang fighting into the curriculum. Of course, hand to hand combat was useful in close quarters when a knight may not have time to draw a weapon, so it was important for the pages to learn. But if someone had to instruct the pages, everyone knew Wyldon would have preferred it not be commoners. But unfortunately, all Shang warriors were commoners, and Shang warriors were the best hand-to-hand fighters there were.

In late summer, the King asked Wyldon to come to the private royal dining hall for dinner. He mentioned that after a long search, he’d found two warriors who agreed to train the pages long term. The King impressed upon Wyldon how challenging it had been to find not one, but two of the notoriously nomadic Shang who could commit to settling down and training the pages. The conversation left Wyldon with the sense that he would have to learn to work with the two people the King had pressed into service, even if he didn’t like them. And even before the dinner, he got the sense he wasn’t going to like them.

“Lord Wyldon of Cavall may I present Eda Bell, the Shang Wildcat and Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse,” the King said, almost as soon as Wyldon entered his private dining room. He gestured over the table, and two warriors rose. 

Wyldon took them in. Eda Bell was small and well-muscled, but seemed older than he was. Her hair was graying and her eyes looked sharp and firey. Hakuin was a tall and lanky Yamani who would have been intimidating but for friendly eyes and a half smile. Wyldon nodded to both of them, as it would have been beneath a Lord to bow fully to commoners. The Shangs each bowed at the waist, and rose with a confidence not many people had when they stood before the King.

“Well! Our food will get cold,” said the King, taking a seat. Wyldon and the warriors followed suit, but no one spoke. After giving a blessing over the meal, even the king chewed in silence. Wyldon watched the two Shangs who seemed focused on their meal, though he caught a look Hakuin shot Eda, his eyebrows raised and the same smile on his face. Eda’s face didn’t give away anything, she just turned back to her food.

Finally, the King said “you trained Liam Ironarm, right Eda?”

“Yes, I was his kickfighting instructor back when he was young,” Eda said. “Even then, you could tell he was quite the fighter.”

King Jonathan turned to Wyldon. “Liam Ironarm was the Shang Dragon, the highest level of warrior. He saved my life back when I first took the throne and my late cousin attempted a coup.”

Wyldon nodded politely. He remembered hearing about the Shang Dragon. The King had even named one of his children after the man. He didn’t have a response to that though, and instead continued to focus on his meal.

“How long have you been instructing the pages Lord Wyldon?” Hakuin asked.

“Three years,” Wyldon said.

“And before that?” Hakuin asked, Wyldon’s curt response not shaking his cheerful tone.

“Serving the crown.”

“Outstanding, where?” 

“The north.” Wyldon could tell Hakuin wanted a more robust conversation but he didn’t want to give it to him. The way he saw it, as training master, he had final say on whether or not the Shangs came into the palace. He didn’t have to appeal to a commoner who thought he could stand on equal footing with nobles. 

“At the border with Scanra?” Hakuin didn’t even seem to notice Wyldon’s clipped responses. He continued to keep his voice light and chipper. When Wyldon looked up, he found Hakuin’s eyes on him, the smile still on his face.

“Yes. Is something funny to you?”

“You’re a man of few words is all,” Hakuin said, taking Wyldon’s harsh tone in stride.

“We thought you’d have more questions for us, quite frankly,” Eda said. “Your dislike of women and foreigners isn’t exactly a secret.”

“I don’t dislike women and foreigners,” Wyldon said, trying to remain calm. “I’ve never said that.”

“It’s not something you have to say,” Eda said. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “my Lord.”

“I don’t appreciate being accused of having views I do not hold,” Wyldon could feel his face reddening as his frustration mounted. To be called a bigot and then disrespected in the same sentence! He couldn’t remember being treated like this. And the King just sat there watching it happen. 

“I think what Eda is trying to say is we were surprised to be asked,” said Hakuin, still cheery. “Right Eda?”

“Yes. I was surprised, given your whispers about how women are too weak to keep up with men in combat,” she said.

“And I believe I’m the first Yamani you’ve ever spoken with. But please correct me if I’m wrong.”

Wyldon sputtered for a moment. But Hakuin wasn’t wrong. Wyldon had seen Yamanis, of course, as they passed through Corus but had never spoken to one. And if he was being honest, he wasn’t convinced that women were equal to men. So they were right. A little. But they were still treating him with a shocking amount of disrespect.

“Is it a custom in Shang to back-talk your commander? Is this really the most effective way for you two to secure your position?” Wyldon didn’t hide the anger in his voice.

“Shangs don’t usually have commanders,” Hakuin said. He didn’t say anything more.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“We know our worth,” said Eda. “We’ve both taught before, students of all ages. We’ve lived all over Tortall and in other lands. And while it’s considered beneath a Shang warrior to highlight their skills, I’d say Hakuin or I could best you in nearly any form of combat and if you don’t believe me, we can head to the practice courts now.”

Wyldon shot a glance at the King, who was regarding the proceedings with a unplacable expression. 

“With respect, Your Majesty, I don’t think this will work and I don’t appreciate being challenged by a commoner,” Wyldon said.

“Then how do you wish to proceed Wyldon?” the King asked. When Wyldon didn’t respond, the King carried on. “The way I see it, we have three options. You can, in addition to your duties training the pages, undertake a hunt for new teachers in unarmed combat. Of course, they will all be commoners, but you may find people more to your liking. We can choose to have our pages not be instructed in hand to hand combat. This will make them more vulnerable to attack, but hand to hand combat wasn’t done in our day, so it won’t kill them. Or you can learn to work with Hakuin and Eda.”

Wyldon sighed. “Somehow I feel like I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“You always have a choice,” the King said. “In this case, however, only one choice makes sense. And I think as the three of you spend more time together, a mutual respect will develop.”

At that moment, Wyldon looked at the Shangs, who wore expressions identical to his. Expressions that said a mutual respect was unlikely.

At least they agreed on something.


	2. Gift of Teaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew Wyldon was a big softie when it came to the little pages?

When the year started and a new group of pages came in, Wyldon made himself scarce while the Shangs were teaching. He started skipping the beginning of morning practice, only coming to monitor the pages when they switched from hand to hand combat to staff work, archery and tilting. 

He didn’t hear many complaints from the pages though. No more complaints than usual, that is. All the pages griped about how much work they had to do when they thought Wyldon couldn’t hear, but he didn’t hear Hakuin and Eda’s names more than any other teacher. If he was looking for a reason to get rid of them (which he wasn’t, thank you very much) page dissatisfaction wasn’t going to be it.

Wyldon ran the outer wall of the palace every day at dawn, no matter the weather. He liked to overlook the grounds in the quiet morning and running each day helped him clear his head before he had to be in charge of fifty complaining, confused, and overworked pages. One morning in early fall he glanced down as he passed the practice yards and saw the two Shangs outside, working through strengthening exercises and combinations with staffs, swords, knives and their own hands.

The training master stopped for a moment. He hadn’t had many opportunities to watch any Shang warriors actually engaged in battle, particularly since he spent most battles on a horse, commanding a group and Shangs generally fought alone. Outside bars. After drinking.

No, that was uncharitable. But since Shang warriors weren’t bound to the realm the way knights were, they didn’t often come to Tortall’s aid during wars. But watching Hakuin and Eda showed Wyldon that the Shangs did have some skills. The two moved quickly, seamlessly, working through combinations and passes like they had been born fighting. Which in a sense, they had, given that they probably started training as young as five.

Their style was so different from what he had learned, Wyldon could spot the differences from high above. Even the way they held swords was unlike how he’d been taught. After another moment, he ran on, almost reluctant to keep moving and leave the Shangs behind. 

That morning, he appeared at the training yard earlier than normal, halfway through the lesson in hand to hand combat. The pages were broken up into two groups, with Eda watching over as boys sparred in pairs of two, and Hakuin taking his time to correct the stances and blocks of another group.

The two, who had been so united against Wyldon at their first meeting, seemed to have radically different teaching styles. Eda was sharp, jumping into quickly correct form and calling out names and problems for everyone to hear. Hakuin was softer, always smiling and walking slowly in between the boys, pausing to personally address incorrect technique.

From a glance at the boys, Wyldon could see this separation was deliberate. Eda had the boys that never flinched when Sarge yelled at them, who bore insults from teachers and other boys with only haughty silence or an insult of their own. Boys who could handle the bite of a wildcat.

Hakuin’s group was a little younger. A little bit more fragile. The types of boys who Wyldon doubted would ever be great knights because of a fear that seemed to always hold them back. Something about Hakuin’s teaching was encouraging these boys to strike a little faster, wince a little less when they caught blocks. Both the teachers were making their students tougher, stronger, but were taking different ways to go about it, catering to the different needs of the students.

Wyldon hated to admit it. But he was impressed. He had given the Shangs no guidance with the group, though he of course knew the strengths and weaknesses of each boy. Probably because deep down, he wanted them to struggle, to spend time floundering while they gauged the best methods for each page. Instead, they’d set up a smooth and efficient method of instruction for all the different skill levels and learning styles. 

Just as Wyldon was losing his interest, guessing each Shang only had one teaching style, they switched, Eda lining up the younger boys to drill falls and Hakuin taking the older ones to run through a complicated combination of blows and blocks. The change in their manner was so subtle, Wyldon knew that many people wouldn’t even notice it. But he’d been teaching long enough to catch the extra inch Hakuin had now that he prowled the rows, firmly correcting students, and Eda’s instructions became a little quieter so that the mistakes of the boys weren’t broadcast to the whole yard. 

So they were capable teachers. Fine. That didn’t mean Wyldon liked them anymore than he had this morning.

Except. Except it sort of did. Wyldon never would have admitted it, but he did have a soft spot for his students. As much as they drove him crazy, taking years of his life and greying his hair, he did care for them, and want them to be successful. Sometimes that meant pushing good fighters even harder, and taking a softer hand with younger ones. As gruff as Wyldon seemed, he would never have tolerated teachers who bullied students just because, or focused only on naturally talented boys while ignoring the rest. To see that not only did the Shangs have a commitment to teaching the pages well, but they also had compassion and an interest in helping and instructing everyone. No matter how much they struggled with the material.

As the two warriors wrapped up and herded the pages to their next activity, Wyldon stopped them.

“You’ve done well with them,” was all he said. All he could bring himself to say.

“Thank you,” Hakuin said. He saw Eda open her mouth, but Hakuin’s quick response cut her off. “Hopefully in the future we can work together so their hand to hand training matches with the rest of their training.”

Wyldon knew when he was in the wrong. He nodded stiffly.

“Hopefully.”


	3. The Horse

With the Royal family taking meals privately, Wyldon had to invent little tests for the pages, to ensure they wouldn’t embarrass him at big banquets. With enough guests coming through court, he could usually find someone to sit with him at the head table, and give the pages practice serving others. When there weren’t guests, particularly in the colder winter months, Wyldon would rely on the pages’ other teachers to fill the seats.

Frankly, it was only a matter of time before he had to ask the Shangs to join him for dinner. It was deep into the winter and he had a choice between the Shangs or one of the Mithran priests. He knew it was uncharitable but the Mithrans bored him to tears, the thought of spending an entire dinner with them was more than he could stomach. 

He sought out Eda and Hakuin that morning, after they’d finished with the pages.

“You know I have guests at the head table for the pages to practice serving,” he said gruffly.

A pause. “Yes, we know,” Hakuin said. 

“Well, I need guests for tonight, unless you two are occupied.”

The two engaged in the silent conversation Wyldon had seen several times before, and drove him crazy. They seemed to be have a whole discourse with a raised eyebrow, a tilt of the head. It was maddening.

“We’d be honored,” Eda said. Then, as Wyldon turned to go, “as long as you don’t mind us eating with our hands.”

Wyldon turned, not totally masking the horror from his face. Eda and Hakuin suppressed smiles, knowing their trick had succeeded. 

Maybe he should’ve asked the Mithrans after all.

—

Mercifully, the Shangs did not eat with their hands, and actually seemed to know the nuances of formal dining. The second year page serving the head table seemed less nervous than other pages, possibly because Eda winked at him when he came up to the table.

“You’ve done well with them,” Wyldon said gruffly after the page had dropped off a small first course. “It seems their stances in staff work improved faster this year than in past years.”

“Thank you for saying so,” Hakuin said. “It was smart of you to integrate hand to hand combat. It strengthens the muscles, it helps almost everything else they’ll do.”

“Except horseback riding,” said Eda.

“True,” Hakuin responded.

“You all don’t ride horses?” Wyldon said.

“We _can_ ,” said Hakuin. “It’s just not part of our training, not in the same way everything else is.”

“It would make us too powerful,” Eda said.

If Wyldon was a less refined man, he would have scoffed.

“I know you doubt us,” Eda said. How she knew what Wyldon was thinking, he couldn’t say. “All the nobles do.”

“And do so at their peril,” Hakuin added. Eda nodded.

“You two think you could beat a fully trained knight?” Wyldon could hear the frustration in his voice. What was it about the Shangs that made him so quick to anger? He usually was in far better control of his emotions, but something about the two of them could get under his skin. 

“Not in everything,” Eda said. “But for most knights, in most types of duels, sure.”

“How could you possibly—”

“With respect Lord Wyldon, you’ve never seen us fight,” Hakuin said. “Not for real, anyway.”

Wyldon opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. It was a good point. He’d only seen the Shangs in training or while teaching. If someone made a judgment on his skill after seeing his teaching and nothing more, they would be wrong.

“Then let’s see you fight,” Wyldon said.

—

“Why not just kick me directly? I’ve been rammed by more lances than I can count,” Wyldon said. “I think I can handle a barefoot kick.”

“You’re confident, that’s what I like about you,” Hakuin said. Wyldon glowered a little, though Hakuin’s comments seemed to almost be friendly teasing. The three had gone to the practice yards once dinner had finished, correctly assuming that at this late hour, no one would be there.

“Why don’t you see what I can do on something else first, then see if you still want to feel the full force of a kick from the Horse,” Hakuin replied. 

Wyldon rolled his eyes, but agreed. “What did you have in mind?”

“What about that dummy you use for the tilting practice?”

“That’ll be useless, I won’t be able to gauge how hard you can kick on a heavy dummy filled with sand,” Wyldon protested.

“Humor him,” Eda chimed in. “You may be surprised.”

Wyldon threw up his hands, and the three walked out to the tilting lane where Wyldon set up the dummy.

Hakuin stood before it, settling into a stance. Wyldon saw his face smooth, and every muscle in his body shift. There was another change to Hakuin, a change Wyldon couldn’t put his finger on if he tried.

“I still don’t think—” Wyldon was cut off as Hakuin struck lightning fast. The thump on the dummy was audible, and in the next moment, the bottom fell off, spilling sand all over the practice yard.

Wyldon stared open mouthed. That dummy had taken hundreds and hundreds of lances from pages and squires and even knights riding huge horses. He himself had rammed the dummy several times, and he was one of the strongest jousters in the kingdom. And Hakuin had split it with a kick.

“A trick!” Wyldon finally said. “You’ve loosened it!”

Now it was Eda’s turn to roll her eyes. “You got the dummy yourself, you would have noticed if it was loose. But I’m sure Hakuin is happy to demonstrate again.”

“No let’s…let’s not ruin another dummy, they’re expensive to replace.” 

Hakuin laughed, then stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be impolite. I just think that’s the first time I’ve heard you admit defeat!”

Wyldon scowled. “A good knight knows when he can learn from someone with more skill.”

“Plus he could unseat you easily if you ever jousted against him,” Eda replied.

“Thanks for the reminder Eda,” Hakuin said. “I can always count on you to point out my failings.”

If anyone pointed out Wyldon was softening on the Shangs, he would have denied it, but he did smile a little.


End file.
